The lonely soldier
by dango.alien.spoon
Summary: It's been a year since Sherlock "died". and john gets a mysterious letter leading him to a secret place. Who and what is waiting for him there? Johns POV, might change as time goes by. First FanFic.
1. Chapter 1

**The lonely soldier ****Chapter 1**

**AN: Hello ... this is awkward ... this is my first fan fiction and i hope that you like it ... please review ... if people generally like it then I'll continue. Please review truthfully pleeease :) Thanks  
- .Spoon! x**

**_xXx_**

It's been a year since Sherlock has left me. Twelve miserable months and non-stop nightmares and it weren't about Afghanistan. I would lay there, consumed by the darkness around me. It happened again; that god for shaken nightmare, that's been haunting me since the day of Sherlock's death. The dream would be me standing in the street, with my phone held against my ear. My heart would beat fast and my vision locked on Sherlock, standing in the roof at St Barts, with his phone held against his face. I could hear him say "this is my note" and I wondered what that meant. Why was he leaving a note? Why to me? Why now? And while I was in track of thought he would through me off just like he always would and say "goodbye John" once that is finish it goes blank and my head starts to spin, the phrase "goodbye" repeated over and over again inside my head and the next image I see is, the once grey floor, now painted in the crimson red that was Sherlock's blood. And his body lying with no sense of life and no movement, meanwhile a deafening ring would be heard. I would desperately grab for my best friend's wrist and I would swear every time I had that dream, that I felt a pulse. However my vision would go as black as a starless night sky and the ringing would stop. After a few moments I could hear one phrase spoken by Sherlock and it would be said in the settle, relaxed way he did and It would be. "John". That's when I wake up and I come back to reality. The fact that my best friend is dead hasn't sunk in yet- especially when you where in love with them- but I tried to start off fresh. I fell in love with Sherlock probably when we were following Irene Adler, the jealousy was immense. I guess the moment I actually realized that I loved Sherlock was when he died. However I knew that I had to carry on living, even though I did have some thoughts of committing suicide to join him, but I knew that when I did join him he wouldn't like it and be cross with me. So I carried on living.

Now I'm living by myself, not in the flat, but I got a low rent apartment- thanks to Mycroft – I couldn't believe it when he showed sorrow for me and used his power to lower the price. The flat was still in London, and it was only 30 minuets close to 221b Baker Street. Even though I can not bring myself to go to that place, I still stayed in touch with Mrs. Hudson and Lestrad.

It was the usual morning; woke up with a cold sweat and a thundering heart beat. Once I relaxed I got up and made some tea. But when I found out I had no milk, I knew I had to go out, I was hoping to have another quiet day in – oh well. Once dress I went up to my local corner shop and returned to the flat. But when I went to step on my front door step, there was a sealed envelope.

It was brown and was sealed in a crimson red wax seal. I pick it up and then had a strange feeling as if this has happened before. Then It suddenly hit me. It happened a couple of day before _that _day. I saw an envelop exactly like this one on the door step if our home at 221b Baker Street. I rushed in door's, dumping the milk on the floor, and started to open the letter.

Once open I quickly pulled the white paper out of the envelop and started reading.

_Dear John,_

_Hello. Guess who? You may have realized that you've seen an_

_Envelop just like this one three months ago, and be thinking that_

_It's Moriaty. Well it's not. Instead you've got it completely wrong_

_And it's common among ordinary people. Actually it's Mycroft and_

_Don't worry you should have noticed that the seal is completely _

_Different to the seal from before. What I wanted to say will not seem _

_Normal nor will it make any sense. But you should go to this address_

_At 10 am tomorrow and then it will make sense. _

_MH _

_16a Downtown Lane. _

_London,_

_Lo5 qu3_

**AN: So thats it ... hope you liked it and please review it :)  
- .Spoon! x**


	2. Chapter 2

**The lonely soldier****Chapter 2**

**AN: Hello once again :) here is chapter 2!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters :( **

**_xXx_**

This was it, 16a Downtown Lane. I didn't know what to make of it. I was excepting an abandon warehouse, in the middle of no were, but I couldn't be more wrong. It was a casual apartment; it was a three level house that's been divided into flats – judging by the number of letter boxes outside. The house was Large, it had a bright, deep blue front door and two cars sat in the front drive.

I walked up to the door and rang the buzzer for 16a. After standing there for a moment or two I waited to hear Mycroft or his sectary's voice. "Hello?" a voice said. It was a voice of a man whom just woke up, and it sounded strangely familiar. "Hi, my names John Watson. I'm looking for Mycroft" I stated hoping that I didn't get the wrong address. "John?" the voice replied.

"Yeah" … The voice went dead. I started to worry but all my mind could think about was where I remember that voice from. "Hold on for a minuet, I'll come to the door." The voice said. I stayed there, thinking about that voice and just when I heard footsteps run towards the door, it hit me. That voice. The voice of such a clever man. The voice of the one person I've wanted to see for such a long time. The voice of, my love, Sherlock Holmes.

The door swept wide open and as I stood there in shock almost hoping that Sherlock wouldn't appear from the door. A man appeared from the darkness of the hallway. Sherlock Holmes. He was wearing his usual night clothes; the silky, dark blue night gown, "John!" he exclaimed. I stood there in silence. Not knowing what to do, what to say, not even what to think. I've spent the last twelve months thinking that this man. This remarkable, clever, supendus man was dead.

"John?" Sherlock asked with a hint of worry in his voice. I stood there, as frozen as Jack Frost and all I was able to do was roll my hand into a fist and swing at Sherlock's face.

"Ouch! That hurt!" he complained.

"A YEAR!" I yelled.

"I know it's bad but let me …" Sherlock started but I interrupted him.

"A year, twelve months of being worried, scared, depressed. And twelve months of being alone" I said looking straight into his eyes.

"sorry." He replied starting to hold onto his cheek.

"Sorry? Sorry all you got to say? do you even realized what I've been through?"

"I know, sorry is not good enough, I should have come straight home but I couldn't"

"Couldn't? why not Sherlock?" I asked starting to get use of seeing Sherlock's.

"Maybe we should go inside; I think you need a cup of tea, and I need some ice" Sherlock joked. And for the first time in the last year, I smiled.

"Ok" I replied as I followed my friend into the apartment, still tender of his presence.

**AN: So that's chapter two, please review/comment :)  
- .Spoon**


	3. Chapter 3

**The lonely ****soldier** **Chapter 3**

**AN: Hello once again! here's the next chapter, please review/comment, thank you :)  
- .Spoon **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any characters :(**

**_xXx_**

I sat there in a small armchair similar to my chair back at 221b Baker Street, the room was big. It had a high ceiling, and the walls were painted a shade of dark green, as in the army camouflage green. It had a similar lay out to our flat, had two armchairs (one leather, deep brown, and one grey, velvet). It also had a basic chemistry set, which seem to hold some fungi, of course Sherlock would be doing an experiment, he couldn't live two weeks without some short of experiment; take our trip to investigate the 'H.O.U.N.D' case, even then he experimented on me! Finally to complete the look of a room owned by Sherlock Holmes there's a mess, I mean it took me a brief moment to route out my path just to get to the armchair, man this fellow needed a house maid.

Sherlock entered the room carrying two mugs. I knew he made the tea and I knew it wouldn't taste nice. I bravely took a sip and I was right it was horrible, but I couldn't critics him now. So I quietly drank the dark liquid.

"I suppose you want an explanation?" he asked

"Yes" I replied.

"Well" he started "When you saw me jump off the roof I did jump but not onto the pavement but into the dustbin truck parked on the side of the road. Then I collected blood from the hospital earlier on and smothered myself in it and lay on the path, and then all I had to do was act dead. The doctors took me into the hospital, Molly fakes the autopsy report on me and Mycroft gave me a new place to stay that hadn't heard much of me, meaning I could lay low for some time."

I sat there amazed and socked that the fact Mycroft crept into this conversation, "But Mycroft was the person who sent me hear." I stated.

"Yes I know … you told me so."

"But … but" I stuttered trying to get my head around the fact that Mycroft and Molly was in on this and knew that he was alive!

"I know it's a big shocker for your tiny brain to get use to but didn't you ask for me to not be dead? That you wanted one last miracle?" he asked showing some of him old self.

"Yes but … wait how did you know I said that?" I asked

"Because I was in the cemetery when you said it" he stated as if it was the most casual thing to say.

All I could do was the usual, sit there in silent with my head bowed down and trying so very hard not to punch or kill this man with my own hands. "a year …" I whispered.

"Yes…" he replied, now it was his turn to look at the floor. But I saw something that I've never seen on Sherlock's face; regret.

All I could do was to think "I should be over the moon. My best friend has once again returned to my side and all I'm doing is causing him to make that face?" but then I remembered all the time's I had those awful nightmares and when the press just barricaded me with questions. That when I knew, I knew I had to make him pay. Not literally but at least in a revengeful way. So that's when I decided I'll act as though I hate him and make him feel sorry for what he did. Then I would be able to show him how he made me feel, also gain some time for myself to understand what's happened with in the last hour. So I got up walked towards him and stood firmly in front of him. I stood as if I was still in the army, arms by my side, back straight, shoulder's back and my chin high up so he could see my serious face. "Sherlock.", "I know that you believe it's not be a big shock and that you do not feel sorry for what you've done". Sherlock opened his mouth, trying to say something, but I interrupted him "no Sherlock. You have to listen to me and try to understand what I need to say." Sherlock closed his mouth and nodded.

"Good. Now. I will take you to Mrs. Hudson and I will explain to her that you are not dead and that you have once again amazed us, but I will not explain how you did it. That I will leave to you and for God shake keep it simple."

Then I took his hand and lightly patted him on the shoulder, the face that he was pulling was all I needed to see. To know that he actually felt sad, regretful, remorseful and above all sorry. That's all I needed. "let's go home" I said, Sherlock simply nodded and followed me out of the apartment.

**AN: So there you go :) John and Sherlock reunite! :D (i know i keep saying it but pleaaaaase) comment/review *even if it's gonna sound mean* ... give me that tough love! :)  
****- .Spoon**

**_xXx_**


	4. Chapter 4

**The lonely ****soldier** **Chapter 4**

**AN: Hey guys ... sorry for the wait ... school :( Anyhoo here is the next chapter :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Sherlock or any character :P**

**_xXx_**

The silence was deafening. Me and Sherlock sat in the taxi on our way back to 221b Backer Street.

"So…" I started "what have you been up to while you were dead?

"John. Is this the time to be asking me this? Now?" he asked

"Yes Sherlock, now's a perfect time. I believed you were dead but you were doing something else. So I want to know what this 'something else' is. Is that too much to ask?" I hissed, starting to feel my anger rise within me.

The silence crept up again. It seemed like a lifetime but was really 10 seconds – more or less.

"Ill tell you what I've don but with no repetition and no but ins. you know how much I hate them." He said killing the silence.

"Good. Well … "I started him.

He took a deep breath and started his story …

"After I faked my death, I went to Mycroft and asked to find me a flat in London, and to get me off the grid. New name and new identity. And once Molly faked my autopsy report, I was ready to go into hiding. I mainly stayed in the flat, got food delivered my front door so nobody saw my face. Tried to solve as many puzzles as I could and do experiments to keep my boredom satisfied. The only time I left was at the funeral and when you and Mrs. Hudson come to visit. That's when I heard your plead"

Sherlock simply looked outside if the window after that, I was speechless. Not a single word could break its way through my vocal box, and break the once again dominant silence. I then joined Sherlock in looking outside of the taxis window, that's when I realized that we were only 2 minuets away from 221b Baker Street.

**_xXx_**

**AN: So there is the new chapter ... tell me how you think it is ... do you want anything to happen in the next chapter? (Let me know) and i'll try to add them. Until the next time :) **

** .Spoon x**


	5. Chapter 5

**The lonely soldier** **Chapter 5**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock or any characters :( **

Here I was once again. At 221b Baker Street, after the funeral (and saying what I thought to be my final words to Sherlock) I left the flat and gave it back to Mrs. Hudson. Then I realized, this would also be the first time I see her in a month! "Shall we go in?" Sherlock asked walking in front of me heading to pull on the knocker that hung there. "Wait a minute" I replied, "if you just prance in there like before you might turn Mrs. Hudson mad".

"Oh" he said, as if he didn't think of it.

"I'll go in and let her down gently then, when I come to get you, you come in. Got it?" I asked just to make sure he understood me. He nodded.

I knocked on the door and told Sherlock to hide around the corner. Just when he got out of site the door open and there stood Mrs. Hudson, "John!" she exclaimed. "How are you dear? Hope you're keeping fit, where did your mustache go? Have you forgotten something? Do you want a cup of tea? How about you come in?" she asked.

"I would love a cup of tea and I need to tell you something." I admitted. She lead me indoors into our flat, it was exactly how I left it. I sat in my armchair and relaxed, she handed me a cup of tea, "so dear what is it you want to tell me?" she asked as she sat on the sofa and not Sherlock's chair. "Well …" I settled myself so I sat up straight, "I've gotten a letter this morning, and it told me to go to an address. So I went there and …" I paused, how was I suppose to tell her that Sherlock's not dead?

"Well story cut short, I – I saw" I stuttered.

"John, it's ok. Take your time." Mrs. Hudson reassured me.

"Sherlock's not dead"

"What do you mean he's not dead? You saw him die with your own eyes!"

"Yes, well it appeared that Sherlock was up to his old tricks and faked his death"

"Where is he now?"

"Around the corner, do you want me to go get him?"

"Yes please dearie"

I rose from my seat and went to the door, I looked around and expected to see him not paying attention, and simply doing what he wanted to do. Actually I found him, sitting on the front door step with his face buried into his face. At that moment I remembered this is probably the first time he's been back to 221b as well. I stood as tall as I could and cleared my throught.

Sherlock immedietly looked up and jumped to his feet, facing me, and for once I was as tall as Sherlock Holmes.

"How is she?" he asked me.

"She's ok, but I have to warn you she is not a happy Mrs. Hudson right now" I joked trying to cheer him up and to warn him. When I say Mrs. Hudson is not a happy person that means, that just one wrong word and all hell brakes loose. Sherlock chuckled at my reference.

"Ok, I'm ready." He stated as he started to walk pass me and towards the flat. I stopped him and gave him a hug.

"John?" Sherlock didn't move a muscle and his velvety voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I didn't say a thing, I didn't know what to say. I just tightened my hold on him and Sherlock still stood there limp as a rag-doll. I let him go and moved to the side, expanding my right arm, showing him he could walk into 221b.

"Welcome home" was all I could say.

Sherlock smiled and walked pass me, shortly I followed, closing the door behind me.

It felt weird walking behind Sherlock once more, to see his back. I noticed that he remained taller than me, which made me slightly angry, he use to always make fun of my height – especially when people said that he was taller than they thought.

Sherlock ran up the stairs towards the lounge but when it came near the door of the old room, that held so many memories, Sherlock froze. I took his hand, to reassure him, giving him an encouraging nod; he took a deep breath in, let go of my hand and opened the door.

**_xXx_**

**AN: Hey guys :) Hope you like this episode :P As usual, please review/comment :) Also uploading might slow down EPICLY, i mean it's CHRISTMAS! **

**- .Spoon x**


	6. Chapter 6

**The lonely soldier** **Chapter 6**

**AN: Hey, here is chapter 6 ... hope you like it :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock :(**

I believed it was a good idea to leave them two alone, Mrs. Hudson has known Sherlock since he was 3! She was practically a mum to him, so Sherlock had to face here himself. I stood in the hallway and thought of the past, meeting Sherlock, solving our first crime, getting dumped by girls because I couldn't balance Sherlock and the rest of my life, realizing that Sherlock was my life. I couldn't coupe. I have just spent the last year thinking he was dead, Sherlock Holmes, the incredible idiot.

Then I started thinking about the time when we had good moments, like when we first ran through the back streets of London just so Sherlock could say "welcome to London" to a tourist. And when we was in Buckingham Palace and Sherlock didn't have any pants on and mistaking Mycroft for the Queen, thinking back it brought a smile to my face. I was standing in the hallway with an idiotic grin plastered in my face, when a loud smash caught my attention. Thinking that Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson could be in trouble I stormed into the living room. However, what I saw was not what I expected. In front of the fireplace stood Mrs. Hudson facing Sherlock but with her back showing to me, Sherlock was facing me but looking at the floor. I quickly put my deduction skills to use and saw that Sherlock's right cheek was turning to a pinkish-redish colour. I could only presume that Mrs. Hudson had slapped _the_ Sherlock Holmes in the face. Oh how I wished I could of seen that … the only violence I saw that involved Sherlock was people trying to kill us, but this would have been a portal to a whole new world where Sherlock didn't have the advancement with someone he knew _very_ well.

The room was silent and awkward, so to break it I coughed to let them know that I was there. "Oh, John. How long have you been standing there?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she straightened her clothes. "Only a few seconds" I replied. Sherlock looked up and stared into my soul through my eyes, I didn't know what he was thinking but I diverted my attention to Mrs. Hudson.

"Tea?" I asked as I made my way towards the clean kitchen, for once there were no body parts hidden in the cupboard, or any chemicals on the desktops. "Yes please dearie" Mrs. Hudson said,

"Sherlock?" I said,

"Yes please" Sherlock replied as he looked me in the eyes. Once the teas were made, I sat in my armchair, Sherlock in his, and Mrs. Hudson on the sofa. Once again silence was the only noise we could hear, I took a sip from my army mug and for a split seconded it felt like before, before Sherlock _died_. When times were good.

"I know it may seem weird but, it feels normal again. Like nothing happened. Do you get what I'm trying to say?" I said,

"Yes dearie, I know that I have yelled at you Sherlock, but I have yet to great you" Mrs. Hudson said as she looked at Sherlock.

"Welcome home Sherlock, and this time, don't die and leave us, please" She said.

Sherlock nodded and said in a mellow tone "Thanks, and I guess … I'm home".

And that was when my love for Sherlock started to brew and once again become the main part of my imagination. But my love confession could wait, until things go back to normal. That shouldn't take long. Would it?

**_xXx_**

**AN: so there you have it, will John confess soon or will something get in his way? You have to wait to find out :) Sorry for the long wait but SHERLOCK SEASON 3!? AAAAAAH *cough* anyway. Please review/comment, it's always a pleasure to read :D See ya later ;)  
- .Spoon x**


	7. Chapter 7

**The lonely soldier Chapter 7**

**AN: Hello, so … chapter 7 …. Here you go :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock! **

I was sitting on the sofa eating raspberry jam on toast, with a cup of tea, watching Jeremy Kyle on the television. I was waiting for Sherlock to wake up. Although he's only been back for two weeks, it feels as if nothing happened, I couldn't help but feel sad about it but as well I was angry. Why did he have to act like such a robot?

My trail of thought was disturbed when I heard someone knocking on the front door, as I got up to answer the door Mrs Hudson suddenly appeared out of no were yelling "I'll get it dearies!".

I couldn't help but chuckle, I went back to my arm chair when I heard Mycroft's voice.

"Good morning Mrs Hudson, how are you?"

"I'm good thanks dearie, are you looking for Sherlock?"

"Oh no I'm actually looking for John, I knows he already awake so I'll just go and let myself in"

Mrs Hudson was left dumbstruck and before she could stutter a word, Mycroft has pushed past her and up the stairs.

I got ready for the oncoming Holmes so I put my cup of tea down, and picked up a nearby newspaper. Without realising the head title, I pretended to read.

"John!" Mycroft yelled,

"Good morning to you too, however I would appreciate it if you are quiet, I just got your brother to sleep and do not want him to-"

But Sherlock walked in, wrapped in that white sheet (and only that white sheet), saying "too late".

I was surprised by this, but then again, it's not the first time he's warn that – and it's not the first time my eyes have _travelled _away from this face.

"Sherlock, good morning"

"'morning" Sherlock mumbled as he made his way to the kitchen.

Mycroft look the same as always, it's been three weeks since I last saw him, but he didn't change.

"Anyway, Dr Watson, how are you? I hope my way of telling you my brother is alive and well wasn't too much of a shock?"

"No, no it's fine, everything is back to usual" I replied

"Good, then may I ask you of a favour?"

I pretended to gasp of shock "Mycroft Holmes, the British government, is asking me, a mere ex-army doctor for his help?"

I heard Sherlock chuckle to himself in the kitchen, which gave me more encouragement. "What do you want Mycroft?"

"It seems that we need help to penetrate Afghanistan's boarders and need someone among our men that we can trust"

By this Sherlock came swooping in standing in front of my view from Mycroft, who is still standing in the doorway.

"No"

An awkward silence fell in the flat, I couldn't see either Holmes' face but could feel the cold eyes fighting in a stare off.

Mycroft sighed saying "oh well, I tried. I'll be on my way, until we meet again Sherlock, Dr Watson". He bowed his head down and turned to walk out of the door, Sherlock moved out of the way so I could see.

Before Mycroft descended the stair he turned around and pointed to me "why did you lose the Moustache?"

"I didn't like it" was all I had to say. Mycroft nodded and left 221b.

The flat still stayed in silence, I could feel the buzz in Sherlock, begging to ask questions or to throw a tantrum, so I said "go on then, ask or rant away".

Sherlock just bowed his head, closed his eyes and took a deep breathe in thought the nose. I could visibly see the strain move from his face and his muscles relax. He turns around saying, "moustache?"

"yeah, after you jumped, I … kind of – lost it"

"so you grew a moustache?"

"Yes I grew a bloody moustache, why do you care so much, it's gone now isn't it?"

"Can I see a picture?"

"No you bloody can't!"

I left the room, storming up to my room to hopefully get some free time to myself. Within the next hour I got a text from Sherlock …

_Never grow a moustache again, you looked ancient.  
- SH_

**AN: There you go, I felt like I needed to mention the moustache more :P Please review/comment … thanks :D **

**- .Spoon x**


	8. Chapter 8

**The Lonley Soldier Chapter 8**

**AN: Helloooo, so here is chapter 8. Hope you enjoy! **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not owe Sherlock :(**

**WARNING: some swearing in this chapter; just to let you know ;)**

After two months of Sherlock moving back to 221b, both Sherlock and my self agreed that we should tell everyone that Sherlock was alive. However we couldn't agree on _how_ to tell everyone.

"It's simple John, we send out a signal around the world say things like _#SherlockLives _or _#notdead. _That way everyone will know and I don't have to leave the flat"

"No Sherlock, what about Greg? Or Molly? They're your friends Sherlock. You should tell them in person"

Sherlock got out of his armchair – flinging his legs in the air, far too wide. And moved to lie on the sofa, facing his back to me. "No" he mumbled.

"Bloody hell Sherlock, you sulk all you want, do what you want. But don't look for me when your experiment suddenly disappear"

Sherlock looked back at me, "you wouldn't" he said trying to deduce if I would carry out my threat.

"Do you want to bet?" I replied, smiling my coldest smirk.

With a frustrated sigh Sherlock got up from the sofa, moving to his bedroom. "Where you going?" I asked.

"To get changed"

**_xXx_**

"okay, so you've seen Greg, now you only have to see Molly"

"Don't need to see Molly, she already knew I was alive"

I was shocked; "Sorry?"

Sherlock looked at me, giving me that look, the _why are you asking such a stupid and simple question?_ "Of course she knew, she helped me fake it"

Flabbergasted, I stood there trying to think of what to say. _Molly already knew? She helped? Why didn't she tell me, or at least give me some clues?_ My trail of thought was stopped why Sherlock asked, "Why haven't you asked how I faked it anyway?"

"Well, I don't care. I mean it was probably a fascinating technique of thinking; as always by you. But I got you back, that one miracle."

When I stopped talking, I remembered standing at the gravestone in the cemetery, asking Sherlock for that _one_ _miracle_. And once I realised that I said something girly, I started to blush, _ME; John Hamish Fucking Watson_ started blushing. Sherlock must of seen me blush, judging by his next actions.

"Oh, you mean when you said 'one more miracle Sherlock, just for me. Don't. Be. Dead'" when he spoke, it was in that low tone, making my toes curl; Stepping closer to me, not taking his cold grey eyes away from my eyes.

My breath hitched in my throat, making me make a nervous noise, just like a silly teenage talking to their crush.

"Oh John"

While he moved ever so slowly towards me, I started to remember all of our moments. Not anyone else's; Ours.

When we got home after our first chase through London; I didn't know the man yet I chased him, through roof tops, alleyways, all for him to say "Welcome to London".

When he made me my first cup of tea when I got sick with the flu. He insisted on me not leaving the bed and that he looks after me, even though he didn't know how to.

And when we were handcuffed to each other, running through London once again; but this time, we were holding hands. I know it's silly but I got to make physical contact. And physical contact with Sherlock Holmes is as rare as snow in summer.

But before I knew it Sherlock had slipped so close to me that I could feel his breath on my face, he was so _hot_. And when I started to think that he was going to kiss me, he pulled away; Bastard.

"What?" I mumbled.

Sherlock turned around (he had faced away from me and was about to leave the livening room) "mm?"

"What are you doing?"

He pointed to the kitchen, "going to make a cuppa. I'm sorry, do you want one?"

_Do I want one? _Is he having a laugh? "Sherlock, you just nearly kissed me and you back away like it's nothing?"

Sherlock just looked down at his shoes.

"Do you have any idea what that does to me?" I started to raise my voice. "I. You." I took a deep breath. "You arse, you cock. I hate you, your eyes, your hair, your intelegence, your cheekbones. And by God I love your bloody jaw line!" and before I even had a chance to think I rushed over to Sherlock, grabbed his face in my hands and slammed my lips onto his. After a few seconds, i panicked and ran out of the flat. Fast walking turned into jogging, then jogging turned into running. Now I was running through London, but this time I was running away from Sherlock. _I need to run far away. Away from him, 221b and what I just did…  
Fuck what did I just do?._

**_xXx_**

**AN: So there you have it! I was thinking about next chapter being in Sherlock's POV, but I'm not too sure. Please help.**

** .spoon x**


End file.
